


Chastisement

by Miezilesca



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: JuminxSeven, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rulebreaking, somewhere along the way I lost the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 09:46:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12363024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miezilesca/pseuds/Miezilesca
Summary: They had agreed on four rules: No questions, no private talk, no kissing, no emotions. On one evening though, Seven und Jumin found themselves breaking each and every one of them.





	Chastisement

**Author's Note:**

> Ähem. *coughing in german*  
> After writing my first PWP-Oneshot in a different fandom, I swore to my beta I’ll never do it again, because it took me forever and made me cringe with embarrassment. My beta just laughed at me and made absurd oracular prophecies about me writing smutty stuff again, because there is no way I’d stop with his stuff once I started and since she knows me she know’s she’s right … yadda yadda....  
> And now here I’m, writing… this. She was right after all. :D
> 
> In my defence: I really had totally different intentions! But as I sat down to continue writing on this 4-chapter-JuminxJaehee-thing I’m currently working on, I wanted to write: “He felt goosebumps all over his body” but mistakenly typed “He felt goosebumps all over his buddy” and … well … somehow this Oneshot suddenly wrote itself. I swear, I didn’t do anything, it just … appeared … yes… uh…  
> Okay, I admit, I’m just so in love with this pairing. :)
> 
> Have fun and sorry for strange expressions or wrong used words. My english is good, but not good enough and since my beta is abroad right now, I have no-one to correct my mistakes (and dance Boogie Woogie on my self-esteem XD).  
> Thanks :)

The bag was empty as Seven tried to grab another Chip. He sighed and closed his burning eyes for a second. He was beyond tiredness, straight down the road to sheer exhaustion. What time was it? What day, what month? He had been working like a maniac for days, running only on PhD Pepper, Honey Buddha Chips and and a minimum of sleep. Pushing his chair back, Seven stood up and winced. His back was as stiff as an ironing board and his shoulders kept yelling death threats whenever he moved. Sleep. He needed sleep. Stumbling over to his bed, he fell asleep the moment before his head touched the cushion.

Two hours later he woke with a start. He couldn’t remember his nightmare exactly, but since they were always the same he didn’t need to. His heart was racing as he sat up and buried his face in his hands, trying to ignore the metallic taste that crept up his throat. When would it end? When would his thoughts be silent? His tongue felt dry. Almost aggressively, Seven kicked the blanket to the ground and stood up. Without thinking, he grabbed his phone, his fingers were typing the message before he even knew what they were up to.

  _I'm stressed out._

Like expected, the answer came instantaneously.

_20 Minutes. My office. Bring your car._

Seven huffed and tried to ignore the goosebumps on his body. He needed to hurry, 20 minutes was a close schedule. The streets would be rather empty at this hour but it still was a bit of a drive. Seven grabbed a shirt from a pile of apparently clean clothes and hesitated for a second. Should he dress up a bit? Take care of his messy hair? After a few seconds he shrugged his shoulders. He wore fresh clothes, that should be enough. It wasn’t a date after all. It was just … well …  
  
As he fell into the sport seat of his red baby car, he still hadn’t found out what _it_ really was. He fastened his seat belt, started the engine and stepped on the gaspedal. He didn’t want to think about it. Of course, he did, nonetheless. Everything had started a few months ago. He couldn’t even remember everything exactly. He just knew it included himself in an exhausted, depressed state of mind and Jumin Han after the influence of several glasses of red wine. First they had remained silent for an incredible long time. Neither of them spoke. It had been a strange silence, friendly and relaxing, as if both of them somehow acknowledged the other one’s struggles. Just with being together they seemed to comfort each other, laying aside the masks and characters they always pretended to be. And suddenly they had…

Seven cleared his throat to get the explicit pictures out of his head. He shouldn’t get himself too fired up now, that’s what Jumin was for after all. There were no feelings between them. Just a way of reducing stress through sharing _preferences_ . They complemented each other; Jumin, only able to be natural through control and domination and Seven, only able to clear his mind, when somebody _made_ him do so. It worked somehow, as they both acted accordingly to the rules they set up: No emotions, no questions, no talking about private matters and above all: no kissing.

A sharp turn forced Seven to concentrate on the road again. C&R headquarters were close and despite his resolution, Seven could feel excitement rising in him. No feelings - just sex. Exactly what he needed right now.  
The evening was cold and already starlit as he parked his sportscar in front of the huge complex where, even though it was late, Jumin still worked. _No, not worked_ , Seven corrected himself, _a Jumin Han doesn’t work.  A Jumin Han reigns. All hail the cat-king!_  
He still grinned stupidly as he stepped past the few security guards which ignored him like they were instructed to and entered the office without knocking, like _he_ was instructed to.  
  
Jumin was sitting behind his huge glass-and-steel-thing he called a desk. Reading through some documents, he didn’t pay any attention to Sevens arrival. Despite the hour his expensive, nightblue three-piece suit was without so much as one wrinkle and Jumin looked as handsome and dignified as ever. Seven suddenly felt small and unimportant. Perhaps next time he _should_ dress up a bit. A nice shirt maybe. Or at least unwrinkled jeans. As always when he felt uncertain, he fell into his goofy behaviour.

“Good evening! I am delighted to announce the arrival of God Sev-”

“You are one minute too late.”

Seven crossed his arms in a huff as Jumin interrupted him. “Well excu~se me, I tried, but even with my godlike driving skills it’s not possible to be here in 20 Minutes. I actually…”  
  
Jumin raised his head. He did it in a calculating, slow manner and Seven fell silent. There was a look on the man’s face that Seven didn’t like at all, but that also sent a wave of arousal through his body. Jumin’s grey eyes were piercing him, as if he saw every thought and every emotion.  
  
“Pants.”  
  
Seven tilted his head. “Are we in a hurry? Did I miss some-”  
  
"Pants.”  
  
Jumins voice was as sharp as glass. Seven flinched. The little hairs at his neck began to tingle. Slowly, he laid his hands on his waistband without breaking eye contact. The buckle of his belt made a clicking sound as his pants glided to the ground. There he stood in simple black boxers, pants wrapped somewhere around his ankles. He tried to appear self-confident, even bored, but failed terribly under Jumin’s silent scrutinizing.  
  
“Turn.”  
  
Seven raised an eyebrow. “Not a talkative one today, are we?”  
  
There was no movement in Jumin’s face, but Seven suddenly felt the atmosphere thicken. He somehow fought down the urge to back off, but couldn’t stop his fingers from twichting. Suddenly, Jumin got up and strode closer. With every step, Seven felt his lips going dryer, until they started to ache. Jumin’s smell enfolded him, a heavy mixture of expensive cologne and rich wine, as the man bowed his head down to him.  
  
“I said: turn.”  
  
His voice was as quiet and unmoved as before, still there was such an imperious ringing to it, that Seven shivered. Before he knew, he found himself bending over an expensive sideboard, his back turned to Jumin defenseless. Jumin’s scent was getting stronger, he was so close, that Seven could feel the heat of the other man’s body. “Very good.” The slight whisper brushed over his ear turning his shiver into visible goosebumps. “Now, prepare yourself.”

Seven froze. His breath was shorter than before, flowing hot and faltering over his dry lips. Only Jumin managed to get him into this state without so much as touching him. His neck tingled where he felt Jumin’s gaze laying on him. Touching himself sounded so tempting, as his hip region started to beg for attention. Still, he did have a bit of pride left - and dry humping Jumin’s office interior was not on his list of hidden fantasies. “You could help me a bit, you know?”, he said, glad about the fact, that his voice was not as shaky as he had feared.

“That is correct”, the sly amusement in Jumin’s voice was annoyingly arousing. “But do you really think I could overlook your impertinence of being too late? No-one in this building would dare to let me wait.”

Seven snickered a bit breathless. “You pay them after all. Pay me the same and I guess I could at least _try_ to be on time.”

He heard Jumin laugh. A dark, quiet laugh that made his blood rushing through his veins. “I don’t need to pay for something that I already own.”

Seven’s reply turned into a silent whince. He felt precome between his fingers and realised that he had started to touch himself despite his attempt to play hard-to-get. He heard Jumin chuckle again and bit on his lip. Fuck his pride. It was nice to have but it sure didn’t get him _laid_. With a low growl, Seven slid his hand into the back of his boxers. Hesitating for a second, he tilted his head and hissed: “Would his Cat-highness at least give me lube?”  
  
Amusement rushed over Jumin’s face and his dark eyes lit up for an instant, only to be replaced by sly arrogance. To Sevens surprise, Jumin suddenly bent forward and before he knew what was happening, Seven found two of his fingers caught between Jumin’s lips. A soft grip around his wrist kept his hand in place, while a playful tongue teased his fingertips. Seven couldn’t help but close his eyes with a moan as Jumin began to suck softly. His other hand began to match those movements with slow, intensive strokes. They never had sex in this office before and Seven couldn’t deny that he was looking forward to it. His hips bucked forward into his own fist, just as Jumin suddenly withdrew, leaving Sevens fingers coated in saliva.

  
“That should do”, Jumin said with this air of nonchalance, that was so typical for him.  
  
Seven froze for one speechless second, then frustration kicked in. “Dammit…” he swore, tearing his hand from Jumin’s grip. “Fine. I hope you enjoy the show.” He was beyond being able to go back after all. With a deep breath he entered one fingertip, adding a second shortly after. Slowly he stretched himself, not trying to think about what picture he gave to Jumin right now. Still, this feeling of exposure and embarrassment was the turn-on he needed so much. With a mixture of anger and despair, he shoved his fingers inside, giving away a lustful sound despite the little burn he felt. Just a bit more and he would be able to cum like this - only a few more strokes. Moaning, he closed his eyes to enjoy his slowly approaching climax, as Jumin’s cool hand suddenly clenched around his wrist again to stop his movements. Seven obeyed instantly. Spread his legs in anticipation, he gave a sigh of relief which turned into a surprised gasp as he felt something cool and solid trying to force it’s way into him.  
  
“Wait!” He jolted, but firm hands held him in place. “What do you think you’re .. ah…”  
  
“I’m a bit surprised”, Jumin murmured unequivocally unsurprised as he pushed the lube coated buttplug further in. “I always thought you like toys.”  
  
“Nerd… toys and … gamestuff… you idiot…” Seven’s voice cracked. “.. _Dear… God!_...” It took Jumin only a few seconds to press the toy at the exact right spot, making Seven cry out. His body was burning; every inch of him was begging for a touch. He wanted nothing more than feeling Jumin bury himself inside him, intense and hot - how they both liked it.  
  
“Perfect.”  Jumin’s grip loosened, as he suddenly turned to the door. “Now drive me home.”  
  
Somewhere between despair and the urge to push Jumin down to _fuck his brains out_ , Seven couldn’t help but laugh. “Like … Like this?”  
  
“Well you are allowed to pull your pants back up, of course. Otherwise driving must be hard, I presume.”  
  
Something in Seven’s brain snapped. “For _FUCK’S_ sake, Jumin…”  
A buzzing movement inside him made him jolt, turning the rest of his words into an unintelligible stutter.  
  
“Technologie is something very convenient”, he heard Jumin say. As his head snapped up, he found Jumin leaning against the door, his trenchcoat in one hand, his phone in the other, smiling satisfied at it’s display. “I just have to touch this little button and…”

The rest of his words drowned in the muffled groans of Seven, as the small vibrator came to life again, teasing this one sweet spot inside him that made him see stars. “Jumin…” he blurt out between panting breaths. “You … fucking … bastard…”  
  
Jumin seemed lost in thoughts for a while. “I actually think I prefer the term “jerk”. Somehow I’m more used to it.” Then he stepped aside, leaving enough room for Seven to walk past him into the corridor. “After you.”  
Seven could feel his stare burning into his back as he lead the way to his car, moving in mechanical, stiff steps. Jumin had been kind enough to turn the vibration strength down to almost zero, but the movement of Sevens body was bad enough.  
  
The drive turned into torment. Everytime he stepped on the gas pedal, the roar of the engine would vibrate through his whole body. The heated atmosphere, Jumin’s profound smile, the teasing buttplug and the impact of his beloved car - it was too much to handle. He stepped on the brakes and brought the car to a screeching hold. Bevor Jumin could get rid of the surprise which showed on his face, Seven dug his fingernails in his expensive suit. “Touch me..”  he panted half angry, half needy. “Touch me already…”  
  
Jumin’s smile deepened as he hummed in amusement. Raising his hand, his fingers brushed over Sevens lips, but disappeared as Seven tried to snap at them. “I will. Don’t you worry.” Slowly his face came closer, a storm raging in those grey eyes. His lips were so warm; Seven could feel the heat on his skin, even if they just barely touched his cheekbone. “But not now.” Jumin added devilish and pushed Seven back into the driver’s seat. “So drive on, will you?”  
  
Seven moaned in despair. He started the car again and drove an, biting his lip painfully to be able to concentrate on the street. He didn’t even remember how he reached the penthouse. As he somehow got out of the car to follow Jumin upstairs, the plug started to buzz stronger again. Every step was a torture and the little smirk on Jumin’s lips told him, that the man _knew_. In this second, he hated Jumin from the bottom of his heart.

“Just wait until I’m home, cat-mom…” he panted weakly “I’ll screw up your whole system… I’ll hack everything… I’ll…” His voice cracked into a muffled cry as he stumbled against the next wall to keep himself from falling.  
  
Jumin smiled at him, holding up his phone and turning the intensity of the vibration higher and higher. “Ah, I didn’t catch that.”, he said politely “What were you saying?”  
  
Sevens head shot up, he fired deathly glares at Jumin, but couldn’t catch enough breath to answer. His whole body screamed for touches so bad that it hurt and the only man who could release him from this pain stood there, looking down at him with this _fucking_ annoying and so _fucking_ hot smirk in his eyes. Seven licked his dry lips. He was at his limits, had been so in the car already and he would end this _now_ , even if it meant to wrestle Jumin to the floor and take himself what he needed.  
Slowly he pushed himself back on his feet, but Jumin seemed to sense his attempt. Before Seven could even think of approaching him, Jumin grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close. His lips found their way over Sevens throat, teeth scratching over sensitive skin, while he allowed Sevens hands to fly over him, almost ripping the clothes of his body. They fell on Jumin’s huge kingsize bed, without Seven being able to remember how they walked over to it. He didn’t care anyways. As they pressed their hips together Seven could feel how hard Jumin was. Seven whimpered as he rubbed himself against the other man, drowning in the dark, suppressed groans he managed to coax out of him. Seven’s pants were gone in an instant, followed by his underwear and finally Jumin’s finger touched the little toy again, that kept tormenting him.  
“Jumin… _come on…_ ” Seven arched his back off the mattress impatiently, just to fall back again helplessly as he was freed from the buttplug in one, rough pull. Jumin was over him the same instant, pressing him into the cushions, as he finally slipped between Sevens tights.  
  
There wasn’t even enough time to free himself from his clothes completely. He came the instant Jumin pushed in; so hard and overwhelming that he didn’t have time to enjoy it. Seven swore under his breath as he felt himself staining his shirt, but he wasn’t given time to adjust. His hands flew helplessly over the bedsheets, searching for something to hold on to, as Jumin kept on thrusting into him, blatantly ignorant of Seven being in the aftershocks of his climax. Seven winced feebly, which turned into a groan as he suddenly felt Jumin’s hands on him, finally giving in to his pleas to touch him. Without slowing his pace, Jumin’s tongue and slender fingers seemed to be everywhere - trailing his chin, sliding under his messy shirt, brushing over his nipples and caressing his abs, leaving Seven unable to follow. He tried to stop Jumin, as his hands wandered further down, but neither his voice, nor his body listened to him anymore. His cock, still half hard, twitched under these tender touches, which were so contrasting to Jumin’s hard, unmerciful thrusts - and finally, Seven lost it completely.  
Letting go of everything, he shut off his mind and gave into Jumin's lead. His whole world crumbled to pieces until there was nothing left aside hot breath on his skin, strong hands holding him down and Jumin’s name coming over his lips over and over again. He could feel Jumin’s body stiffen, he heard his own name muttered under a breathless moan and suddenly another climax hit his strained, weak body. Trembling, he fell into Jumin’s embrace, allowed himself be held and cared for as he lost himself in pleasure.  

They were laying there until Seven found it hard to breath under Jumin's weight.  He shifted his hips and soon Jumin took the hint and slowly rolled off of him. His shirt was sticking to his stomach and his body was covered in sweat. Never before had Seven felt more dirty and disgraceful. And never he had felt more alive. His mind was clear, his body tired but relaxed and for this short moment, all the guilt and sorrow inside his heart were silenced. He stretched lazily and turned around, watching Jumin, who wore an expression of smug self-satisfaction on his face. Seven couldn’t help but laugh.  
  
“Zen is right, you know?”, he grinned “you are a jerk.”  
  
“Then I’m making progress, for I used to be an asshole.”  
  
“Congrats!” Seven snorted, peaked at Jumin’s puzzled look and cracked up even more. “Wait, you weren't joking?”  
  
Jumin tilted his head slightly and moved to the bedside to sit up. “I was just being honest.”  
  
While Seven watched Jumin wrapping himself in a morning gown, he chuckled: “We are two of a kind… You being funny when you don’t want to, me being not funny at all when I try to. Why exactly do we get along, Mr. CEO-in-line?”  
  
Jumin went silent for a while. Looking through the huge glass front of his penthouse, he let his gaze wander over the never sleeping city to his feet. “Because even if we are opposite in character, we are all the same.” His voice was steady, but lower than usual. “Both trapped in a life which had been decided for us in the past. Both hidden behind a name that dictates our future. Both free and in chains the same time.”  
  
Sevens grin vanished. Still he tried to cling on to his goofiness, not to be forced to think about his life. “Naaah, what’s with the depressed mood? Life is fun!”  
  
“Is it?” Jumin turned his head. “Do you think I’m stupid? I can see it, Luciel. The smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, your silliness that begs for attention. But…” he raised one hand as Seven tried to interrupt him. “..according to our rules I will neither ask, nor judge.”  
  
Something inside Seven cracked. His mind was filled again with things he didn’t want to think about. But hidden under all this thoughts he could suddenly feel an emotion he hadn’t felt for a long time: the urge to ask for help. He knew it was impossible. He knew he must not dare to. But for one weak moment he let himself drown in the fantasy of telling Jumin everything, asking him for his money and power to start a new, a happy life. His hands clenched into the blanket, he could see the veins pulsating through his skin. “If you were allowed one question,” he asked with a voice he didn’t even recognize as his own. “what would you ask?”  
  
“Your name.”  
  
Sevens head snapped up. Jumin had leaned closer again, a warm smile on his lips. “I would ask your name. The one behind _Luciel_ , _707_ or _cat abuser_.”  
  
His hand reached out, brushing a stubborn red hairstreak out of Sevens face. It was a soft, almost lovingly touch and Seven leant against the warm fingertips to preserve this feeling a bit longer. As he opened his eyes again, he was way too close to Jumin. He didn’t realize that he had bent over to him and he knew he should go back - but he couldn’t. His hands cupped Jumin’s face the same instant their lips touched. Neither of them moved, both seemed frozen for a second, until finally Jumin closed his eyes and opened his mouth to welcome him. Their tongues met cautiously in a tender, almost shy kiss.  
  
Seven suddenly pulled back, just far enough, that he could still feel Jumin’s breath on his lips. “Saeyoung.”, he whispered, pressing his forehead again Jumin’s.  
  
Jumin smiled. “I do not remember asking you.”  
  
“I do not remember telling you.” Seven answered cheeky, "I would have to kill you, if I did, ya know?"

He could feel his heartbeat speeding up as Jumin laughed and wrapped his arms around him to pull him closer again. Neither of them seemed willing so stop. Again and again they found their lips, not wanting to let go of this precious moment. There was nothing sexual behind it, no arousal or hotness, just deep, well hidden emotions, bursting through the surface. As they parted again, Seven refused to open his eyes. He wanted to lock out reality for a bit longer, even if it was just for a few more seconds. Laying there, listening to Jumin’s regular breathing, enjoying those soft fingertips, that tickled his neck - he felt completely at peace. A relaxed sigh broke over his lips, a sound that was so alike the soft meowing of a cat, that it made Jumin laugh.  
  
“What are you, a cat or a human?” Jumin asked amused, while Seven shifted around, trying to find the most cosy position.  
  
“Cuddle me like a cat and I will be one”, he answered leisurely, “Do you cuddle Elly like this every day?”

“It’s Elizabeth the 3rd. And yes, I do.”

“Aaaw, so jelly…” Suddenly a thought struck him and he raised his head to look around the penthouse. “Where is my cute little Elly anyways?”

“She’s with Assistant Kang of course”, Jumin answered irritated, as if he couldn’t understand how Seven would ask such a stupid question. “I can’t let her see… _this_.” He cleared his throat and Seven snorted in delight. “I told Assistant Kang to go and pick up Elizabeth 3rd right after I read your message. I had 20 minutes to spare after all”, he faltered a moment “21 minutes, to be exact.”  
Seven chortled and buried his head on Jumin’s shoulder. His fingers rustled through his raven hair and he wondered how Jumin would look with a terrible bed head. Somehow it was a sight Seven would love to see. They fell silent. Seconds stretched to minutes, while neither of them spoke, nor moved, except their fingers which kept on messing up hair and caressing skin.

  
“Stay the night” Jumin uttered suddenly and Seven suppressed a sigh. It was soothing to imagine staying and for a short moment, Seven hesitated. Jumin really did have enough money and power to help him. He was the only person in this world who could maybe set things straight. He could...

_No._

Seven pressed his lips together and stuffed those thoughts back into the depth of his mind. He shouldn’t dwell in fantasies of a happy life. It had been enough to feel appreciated and liked for a short while, but getting too attached would only remind him how lonely his life was. He had to stop now, when he still could do so without hurting himself too much. With a determined gesture, Seven pushed himself of the bed and slipped in his jeans.  
  
“Sorry. Can’t. Too much work for God Seven, Fighter of injustice and evil!”  
  
It was hard for him to keep up the façade of cheerfulness. He hurried to grab his jacket and make his way through the penthouse, head bent low to avoid Jumin’s eyes. Just as he reached out to the doorknob to open it, it got slammed shut again. Surprised, Seven looked up, only to find Jumin standing there, holding the door closed with one hand, a strange, almost mad look on his face.  
  
“That was not a request.”

Seven froze. There was a dark ringing in Jumin’s voice that made the alarm bells in his head go off. “Stop it. The game is over”, he said with unusual seriousness and raised his hand to the doorknob again. Jumin didn’t move. He seemed calm on the outside, but the flashing in his eyes betrayed him. Seven tensed. He couldn’t quite keep the sadness out of his voice as he spoke again. “I’m an agent Jumin, if I want to I can _make_ you move. Please...” He hesitated for a moment. “Don’t … make me hurt you.”  
Something in Jumin _happened_. Seven could see the grey eyes changing, an expression creeping up that he couldn’t quite understand, but suddenly, Jumin withdrew. His hand slid from the doorframe as he walked away, leaving Seven behind. As Seven opened the door and looked back again, Jumin was standing in front of the windows, tall and motionless, his back turned towards him. Seven opened his lips to say something, but pressed them together without speaking. Silently he turned around and left the penthouse.  
  
He smiled sadly as he stepped into the the lift. He should have known it. Maybe Jumin and he complemented each other in sexual preferences, but they were not made to be happy. His eyes focused on the display and followed the changing floornumbers as the lift descended. _16th floor, 15th floor_ . This will be the last time he’d ever come here. _12th floor._ Even if the sex was incredible, he couldn’t let someone trying to get so close to him. _9th floor_ . Not now, as they had broken their own rules. All of them. _7th floor._ His phone vibrated and Seven clicked absent-minded on the message that popped up.  
  
_I apologise. My behaviour was very inappropriate. It will never happen again._  
  
The numbers on the lift’s display kept decreasing while Seven stared at the phone in his hand. What happened to Jumin back there? Had he really just mixed up their game with reality? Seven tried to remember the expression he had seen in Jumin’s eyes. Where had the madness come from so suddenly? The lift reached the ground and opened with a mechanic sound. Suddenly, Seven understood.  
  
The look on Jumin’s face hadn’t been anger. It had been fear. Seven leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, as a muffled laugh broke over his lips. Jumin was right. They were so different and so much alike. Both fighting for affection and destroying it the moment they touched it. Jumin’s urge to controll was nothing more than an attempt to fight his loneliness and the fear to loose what he gained, as Sevens annoying goofiness was nothing more than a way of fighting his fear to vanish and be forgotten, even if he knew he was not allowed to be remembered by someone. Seven looked up, stared at the foyer in front of him without moving a muscle. He could see his car through the glass doors, parked outside at the street and waiting for him to drive home. Home into his bunker, back into loneliness and isolation. He knew he had to leave. But he also knew he would never come back again once he did. Just as he was about to step out of the elevator, his phone vibrated again.  
  
_I’m so sorry, Saeyoung._  
  
His eyes started burning. Since many years, all he had ever wished for was someone calling his real name. But suddenly he knew that this was not enough. His thumb pressed the button of the top floor, as he read his name over and over again. He wanted more. He wanted to be allowed to be greedy. He wanted to hear his name, again and again, slipping over the lips of this man who managed to make him feel so… _at home_ .  
The lift stopped and Seven squeezed out of it before it even completely opened. Feverish he crossed the floor and banged against the penthouse door, until Jumin opened, a deep and honest surprise on his face. He opened his mouth, but Seven shut him off before he was able to speak. “Say it again.”  
  
Jumin sighed. “I … truly apologise. It was not my…”  
  
“Not this.”

Jumin froze. Seven clenched his fists and gulped. “My name..”, he said so quiet, that it was almost inaudible. “Say... my name.”

As he looked up, he found Jumin smiling. Not his cool, well calculated fake-smile, which he used to charm female customers with, but a tender smile, full of warmth.

“As often as you want me to”, Jumin answered softly. “Saeyoung.”

Sevens heart fluttered. As he stepped forward, he didn’t know if this decision would lead him to happiness or utter ruin. But he did know, that right now, he was willing to take the risk.

 


End file.
